


Nature Defies

by fragilelittleteacup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Affection, First Kiss, Fluff, Healing, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Purgatory, Whump, read this if you want to feel gooey and nice inside, the fluff will give you cavities, very literally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:45:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8102866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilelittleteacup/pseuds/fragilelittleteacup
Summary: When Dean is hurt, Benny decides.





	

The first time Dean saw Benny licking himself, he was very, very confused.

They’d been fighting for hours; around them lay a maze of bodies, draped over each other, fresh and raw, flesh a hideous mix grey and red. Dean had been looking down at one of the bodies, staring into its eyes and calmly reflecting on his utter lack of discomfort with uninhibited violence and murder, when he’d glanced up at Benny- who, to Dean’s shock, had rolled up his sleeve, and was sucking on a fresh wound.

“…The hell are you doing?”

Benny looked up innocently. “You say somethin’, brotha?”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “If you’re that goddamn hungry for blood-”

“No, you got me all wrong, chief.” Benny held out his arm, movements unhurried and calm, just like everything Benny did. The way he spoke. The way he walked. The way he fought; always so measured, so relaxed. He _whistled_ as he decapitated his own kin. Dean loved it. Admired it. Had never, ever witnessed a killer so relaxed if he wasn’t a psychopath.

Dean inspected the arm before him. The skin was closing over, smooth under fresh blood.

“Did you just heal yourself?” Dean asked slowly.

Benny hummed an affirmative, rolling down his sleeve. “Vampiric saliva, my friend. Heals wounds.”

Dean frowned. “…All my years of hunting, I’ve never heard that.”

“Vampires used to be keen on keepin’ their victims alive. Nowadays, it’s all… fast food and instant gratification.” Benny looked up, smiling lazily, eyes so bright they shone in this grey, murky world. Dean looked right into those eyes, right at him, and he’d never felt more of a connection to anyone. Benny smiled wider, continuing in the same drawling tone, “Or so they tell me. Ain’t been up top myself. But I’ve asked around over the years. Amazin’, what vamps’ll tell you when their head’s hingin’ off their shoulders.”

Dean’s frown deepened. “You can _heal_ people and you’ve never thought to mention this?”

Benny paused, for a moment, taking a long moment before he replied. Always so calm. Always so unhurried.

“Ain’t gonna help you none, brotha.”

Dean held his hands out, incredulous. His palms were caked with already-drying blood, but he didn’t notice. They’d both been bathed in blood since day one. He didn’t dream of showers anymore.

“Why not?”

Benny sat forward, grinning. When he smiled, his bright eyes crinkled in the corners. “Sugar, if you’re bleedin’, I ain’t goin’ nowhere near your wounds.”

Dean gestured again. “You don’t have the hunger down here. You don’t need to feed.”

“You’d still taste mighty good. Wouldn’t wanna risk it.”

“Sounds like you’ve already had this talk,” Dean pointed his blade at Benny, eyebrows raised, “with yourself.”

Benny shrugged. He planted his hands on the ground, slid himself back, and leaned against a tree. Beside him, a corpse was lying on its face.

“Yeah, I ran it through in my head. Didn’t seem worth discussin’.”

“Why not?”

Benny sighed. “Won’t risk you, Dean.”

Dean considered that, decided that was reasonable. “But if something went wrong, though. What then? If I needed healing, and our crappy makeshift bandages wouldn’t cut it?”

Benny raised an eyebrow. “Now, you know I don’t like it when you say stuff like that, chief. You and me, we’re gettin’ outta here.”

“Just planning, Benny. Just planning.”

Benny pursed his lips and, just for a moment, looked pained. It made Dean’s chest hurt, when Benny made that face; made him ache in a sentimental, nostalgic way that didn’t belong in Purgatory.

“I could get addicted, Dean. To you. I may not have the hunger down here, but that don’t mean nothin’. I get one taste, I might not be able to stop.”

Dean thought about it. “How long since you tasted human blood?”

Benny smiled sadly. “I ain’t seen a human down here yet, Dean. Not aside from your pretty self.”

“Jesus.”

“Don’t think Jesus is any part of this equation, sugar.”

“You don’t want it, though? You don’t think about it?” Dean demanded. “You don’t…?”

Benny sighed. “’Course I think about it. Can’t defy my nature. But I don’t _need_ it.”

 

 

***

 

 

Dean didn’t think about it again. He trusted Benny; he knew he wouldn’t be betrayed by him, even if liquid catnip was running through his veins. In this shithole, all he had was Benny; this blue-eyed killer, this gentle monster who had Dean’s back, who patched Dean’s wounds even when his instincts must’ve been screaming that Dean was _prey._

He felt safe with Benny.

He also forgot about the healing thing. Benny’s argument had been sound, so Dean disregarded it as an advantage he just couldn’t have.

Until he needed it.

 

 

***

 

It’d been a bad fight. They’d barely won. Benny had scraped through with supernatural strength, but Dean had been in trouble since the start; he’d already been injured, and the shapeshifter coming at him had seen his limp, gone for his right leg immediately. Dean had gone down, hard. His head collided with a rock, and the world had flickered, flashed, a flare of pain ricocheting around his skull.

“Dean!”

Benny had fought on, and Dean had been fucking glad, because he couldn’t move. His leg hurt too much. He’d hit his head too hard. Blood was soaking his jeans.

Then everything had faded.

 

He woke up damn fast, because Benny was lifting him up off the ground, and he didn’t understand anything except _pain._

“Hold on, chief. You just hold on, I’ll take care of it.”

Dean couldn’t speak properly, in too much pain to do anything except cling to Benny. His leg hurt. Fuck, it _hurt._ The shifter had cut him deep. Deeper than ever before, deeper than they’d ever dealt with. Tears made their way down his cheeks, mixing with dried blood and dirt, turning to a muddy mess against his skin. His breath hitched, and he didn’t feel shame, didn’t care that he was crying. He held on tighter, because Benny had him, Benny _had him,_ and he didn’t want to die. Not like this.

“Benny,”

“I got you, cher. I got you.”

 

 

***

 

 

When he woke up next, the pain was gone.

He could hear water running. It was a beautiful sound, and so rare that Dean just lay there, listening. The ground under him was wet, enveloping him in a muddy cushion. He realised, distantly, that Benny must’ve brought him to the river- the only river they’d found, thus far. It was a dangerous place to be, because water attracted monsters. It was a hunting ground like no other. As soon as the thought took hold, he tried to sit up. When he actually succeeded in doing so, he looked down, confused. The _pain._ It’d been so bad, so much worse than ever before… but now it was gone. He peeled back the bloody mess that his jeans had become, and blinked at the unbroken skin beneath.

“What…?”

A stick broke nearby. Dean looked up, sharp, and readied himself for a fight.

Benny held up his hands, smiling. “Sorry. Didn’t wanna startle ya.”

Dean nodded, swallowed, relaxed. He shifted into a more upright position, and Benny held forward the canteen he’d fashioned from hide. Dean took it, relieved, and drunk deeply. When he was done, and Benny had lowered himself down to sit beside him, Dean turned to him with wide eyes.

“You healed me. Didn’t you?”

Benny nodded, eyes soft. “Yeah. It was touch n’ go for a while there. Had me goddamn worried.”

“How… How’d you do it?”

With a quiet sigh, Benny looked away. He smiled, so gently and tenderly that Dean was certain he didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve to be stuck in Purgatory. Didn’t deserve the violence and the bloodshed and the pain. He was too good. Too pure.

“Guess I had my priorities in order.” Benny looked back at him, still smiling. “Cared the most about keepin’ you alive, chief.”

“But you… had a taste?”

“Yeah.”

“You… You didn’t…?”

“Drink? No. Didn’t want to.” Benny shifted, uncomfortable. “Thought you were gone, brotha. Didn’t think you’d pull through. Good thing you’re a stubborn son of a bitch.”

It was a joke. An icebreaker to disrupt the seriousness. But Dean couldn’t stop staring at him.

A vampire. Resisting blood. For _him._

Dean had seen mothers turn on their children, brothers kill each other, husbands and wives tear each other apart- all because the hunger told them to. He’d seen carnage. He’d seen so, so much death, and it would’ve been so _easy._ So horribly _quick_ for Benny to sink his fangs in, take a bite, drown himself in the taste.

But he hadn’t.

“You…”

Benny looked concerned. “Y’alright there, brotha?”

Dean couldn’t phrase it right. Couldn’t find the words to describe it- because he knew what Benny had just done. He’d defied his nature in a way that should’ve been impossible. He’d put his mouth to a human’s body, and not drank.

“’Ey,” Benny began, “you’re startin’ to scare me here-”

Dean kissed him.

Benny pulled away, of course, but Dean didn’t care. He looked into those beautiful, selfless, _kind_ blue eyes, and let all the honesty bleed out, let all of the emotion show.

“Thank you,” he said.

Benny smiled. “Ain’t nothin’, brotha.”

Dean opened his mouth to protest, to tell Benny that he was too good to possibly exist, but Benny leaned forward, returned the kiss. Dean closed his eyes.

When they parted, Dean kept his eyes closed, leaned his forehead against Benny’s shoulder. The world was so still. The river made quiet, hushed noises, and there were no monsters to hurt them. Benny put his arms around him, and neither man spoke.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Benny deserved better. He was so good for Dean...


End file.
